Her heart vibrated with the force of a jackhammer in her chest. Oh. My. God. She'd expected the new neighbor to be an executive or a young socialite couple not—well— him.
There should be laws in place for his brand of beautiful that prohibited him walking around shirtless before ten in the morning. He had the 'v' that was sought by many and achieved by few. That perfect triangle that formed at the hip bones and jutted into the pelvis like an arrow pointing south.
What was wrong with her? She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the intrusive thoughts before she actually managed to offend herself. Why was she having them? It's not like she'd never seen a guy without his shirt before but she'd never had such a clear and immediate reaction. To be fair, none of those shirtless guys had the 'v.' She'd only ever seen those in the pages of her favorite fitness magazines and the real thing was so much more...touchable.
Her hands shook with nerves as she opened the fridge and retrieved kale, spinach, mangos, pineapple chunks, apples and oranges. She made quick work of peeling the oranges and mangos and slicing the apples, grateful for a few moments to get herself together. This entire situation was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. That v was the most ridiculous thing of all.
The juicer annihilated all of the fruit and veggies she'd jammed into it and the result looked a bit like swamp sludge. It didn't matter though—it would taste fantastic. Pouring the juice into glasses, she picked them up and took a few deep cleansing breaths before returning to Wes and his v.
He was scrolling through his phone when she emerged but as soon as his eyes darted up to see her coming, he shoved it in the pocket of his sweats.
She prayed her hands would stay steady long enough to give him his juice. If they were shaking and he noticed, he didn't say so. Wes thanked her and took a long sip. "Wow. That's really good."
"Thanks."
"You like yoga, huh?"
"Love it," she said, relaxing more now that they were speaking about something she felt passionate about. "Have you ever tried it?"
He shook his head. "No, I haven't but I'm sure my buddy Drew has."
"Well your buddy Drew may be onto something. You should try it sometime."
A smile stretched across his face again, only this time it was huge, tugging at the corners of his mouth. Holy crap. That grin could erase darkness better than the sun. "Maybe you could teach me." He chugged the remainder of his drink. "Right after I buy my body some fuel and set up my juicer. This is incredible."
"Right? I have a glass every morning."
"My treat tomorrow then," he said. "So long as I can find a grocery store near here."
"I can show you," Rowyn blurted before wishing her mouth had a zipper. Why did she just invite herself along? "I mean, I can draw you a map."
There was the damn smile again. That thing should come with a warning attached to it. Caution. Will greatly affect common sense and cognitive function.
"I'd like that."
She returned to the house, mentally berating herself for allowing a guy to make her so flustered. Surely focusing on something like drawing a map would take her mind off of her new neighbor.
Wes had watched a movie once where one of the characters recited a line that said something to the effect of 'I hate to see her go but I love to watch her leave.' Man, that line was made for this girl. Her body was solid, toned to near perfection and her hips swayed slightly from side to side as she walked. When she came back through the door a second time clutching a notebook and a pen, he bit his tongue to save himself from pointing out that just about everyone had GPS and he could in fact, find the grocery store without her assistance.
She either had a permanent pink flush to her cheeks or she was nervous being around him; he didn't know which. The only thing he was able to determine for sure was that she was cute as hell and obviously a sweetheart. He thought about this while Rowyn busied herself, drawing a series of lines. She was speaking and yeah, he probably should have been listening instead of watching that perfect mouth move, because her map was turning into a mass of inky roadways. As her hand swept across the paper, he set his fingers on top of hers to stop her from continuing. "Are you trying to send me to Canada for groceries?"
She pulled her hand away like he'd seared her skin with his touch. "No. Just to the supermarket." Her eyes fixed on the paper and she laughed. "Oh my God, this is a terrible map."
"Terrible is a harsh word," he said, "It's more like a work in progress. Why don't you come with me?"
"Come with you?" she echoed.
"Yeah, it'll be fun."
She bit down on her bottom lip, seeming to give his suggestion some thought. "I don't really know you. You could be some psycho killer, maybe worse."
"There is always that, although I don't really see what could actually be worse. I guess you'll just have to trust me."
He could almost see the gears turning inside her brain, trying perform a fast assessment of him to decide if he was safe or not. He smiled, hoping to help swing the vote in his favor.
"Okay," she finally agreed.
"Perfect," he said. "How about I meet you out front in fifteen minutes?"
Rowyn gathered up her paper and pen. "Yeah," she said. "Fifteen minutes is good."
Wes stayed long enough to watch her walk away a second time before taking a quick shower and changing into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He threw his snapback on along with a pair of sunglasses, thinking that was about as incognito as he was going to get. It was early and he was headed for a grocery store so he was confident it would be a safe zone and he would be able to shop without drawing any kind of attention to himself.
Whether or not he could keep attention off of his companion was a whole different story.
Rowyn scrubbed away at the juicer, removing the pulp from all of its spaces. If there was a downside to juicing, this was it. The clean up involved. She had to disassemble the entire thing, wash every piece, and then put it back together. It had been seven minutes already and she only had fifteen. She set the pieces on a dish towel to air dry and went into her bedroom.
Her closet and her wardrobe were both pretty envy-inducing on account of her father's continued attempts to buy her love. Often, she'd come home from a run and there would be a parcel of new clothing at the door. It did make for a great wardrobe, a fact she couldn't deny. She selected a simple pair of jeans, a tank top and a blue plaid shirt.
She looked at her watch. Fourteen minutes had passed. One minute left.
She exited the apartment door, closed and locked it behind her. Should she have waited for him to come out first? Were there formal rules of etiquette for grocery shopping with a hot stranger? While she mulled this over, she heard the click of his door.
A small part of her hoped he'd look slightly less appealing when he was fully clothed but no, no t-shirt, or jeans or hat or sunglasses could hide his smile—the thing that captivated her the most. He quickly surveyed her from head to toe and she wished she'd worn something prettier.
"Hey again."
She tugged the sleeve of her shirt over her palm, a nervous habit that wasn't about to end any time soon. "Hey."
"Ready?"
No. "Yep."
At the elevator, Wes leaned over, his body close enough to brush hers. She sucked in a breath and only exhaled when it became obvious he was reaching for the down button, not her. She closed her eyes for a fraction of a second to inhale again. He smelled like salt and sun and sand.
The ding of the elevator shook her from her reverie and Wes draped his arm over the door. "After you."
They rode the lift down to the underground parking garage in relative silence, which was broken when they approached the car he had remote entry for. As the headlights illuminated and the alarm signaled, her jaw dropped. The car was small, black, sat low to the ground and had curves that could make a woman jealous. "Is that an Audi TT?"
His eyebrow shot straight up from behind his sunglasses. "No. It's a 370Z Black Edition but the fact that you know that it looks similar to an Audi TT makes you so super cute right now."
Was it hot in here or what? Her cheeks filled with fire and her palms were slick with sweat, making her grateful that he got the door. She sank into the seat that hugged her spine and braced herself for being in an enclosed space with him and his summer scent and the image of his 'v' burning into her mind like he'd branded it there.
What the hell was she doing? His kind was dangerous. Not in the possibly-worse-than-a-pyscho-killer kind of way but in a fall-all-over-yourself-and-get-back-up-to-do-it-again kind of way. Was she ready for a guy like him?